The Golden City

cutters into position. She pulled on the long handles as hard as she could, but couldn’t get them to bite through the chain.

And then a body slammed into her from behind, breaking her grasp on the chain. She managed to keep her grip on the cutters and swung them slowly through the water at her attacker. It was the man from the boat that night, the one who’d chased her through the water and tossed her into a rowboat with Silva—the selkie.

Set free, the house began easing back upward, fighting the weight pulling it down. It wouldn’t last. Water was filling the house, and that weight would force it back down.

The selkie grabbed the bolt cutters and ripped them from her grasp. Then he swung them toward her head.

* * *

Duilio listened to the sounds over The City Under the Sea. He’d heard the slap of the house hitting the surface of the river. He dropped his own anchor over the side and held his breath. How long would it take before the house sank far enough to be safe from stray bullets? Should he dive in and help Oriana? Or would he be in her way?

The rowboat rocked suddenly when Erdano levered his bulk up onto the side of the boat. “Am I too late?”

Duilio let out a frustrated sigh. Erdano had probably been playing in the water all this time. “Miss Paredes needs to cut the chain on the floating house they just put in. She’s got a tool to do that. Can you go help her?”

Erdano nodded and slid back into the water, leaving Duilio in the dark again. He could only pray that between them, Oriana and Erdano could cut that chain.

The patrol boat was waiting for the yacht to move away from the vulnerable house. Duilio could make out one lantern on the deck of the yacht, alerting him to its position. Its first task done, it began to move, likely hunting the waters over the Amaral replica so it could retrieve it. Where would that be?

The crew on the patrol boat opened their lanterns suddenly, and Duilio saw the yacht had changed course, heading directly for them. With their engine cold they had no hope of getting out of the way, so the patrol boat blew its horn. Barely visible, the yacht changed course again, now trying to pass behind the patrol boat.

Oh, God! Duilio made a panicked grab for the anchor line, but before he could cast it off and move away, the yacht caught the rowboat broadside.

* * *

Oriana pushed out of the way of the selkie’s wild swing. In the water everything moved more slowly. The cutters passed within inches of her face and she kicked farther back, her heart pounding hard.

And then another body hurtled past her in the water, slamming into the selkie’s form. The cutters spun out of his hand, immediately sinking. Gasping in water, Oriana dove after them, pursuing them down toward the riverbed. She would lose them in the silt if they hit the bottom. She made a desperate grab and managed to catch one handle.

She headed back up toward the surface. She had no idea where the selkie or his attacker had gone. She took in a large breath, relieved to be above the clouds of silt near the bottom. She located the chain and followed it upward. Would she be in time?

She could see the house itself then, so she grabbed the chain and wrapped her leg about it again. She hauled the cutters around, positioned them, and clamped them down on the chain, but the blades didn’t cut through. Damnation! She wasn’t going to give up. She ground her teeth together and tried again.

Then a warm body enveloped hers, two large arms coming around hers and grasping the handles of the cutters. The taste in the water told her it was a selkie. His muscular arms strained, and the cutters sliced through the chain. The house was free! It began to float upward, turning now that it was loose, like a fish righting itself in the water, which must be terrifying for the victims inside.

Oriana shoved at the warm body holding her. The selkie released her, although one of his hands squeezed her left buttock before he swam away. She was too relieved to bite him. She let go of the cutters and swam after the rising house, trying to guide it upward. Gods grant that those inside were still alive. She broke the surface only a second after the house did and bobbed in the ripples there. Her throat opened and she tried to catch her breath.

Lights told her where the patrol boat was, and the yacht. Voices carried across the water, a spate of urgent cries. She didn’t see the rowboat. A gunshot sounded, but she couldn’t tell from which vessel. The house, now on one side, began moving in a stately fashion toward the patrol boat, and she realized the annoying selkie—it had to be Erdano—was propelling it in that direction.

She treaded water. Where had the rowboat gone? She felt cold from more than just the night air. She twisted about to look the other direction, thinking perhaps she’d mistaken where he’d been. He wouldn’t just leave her out here.

The floating house banged against the side of the patrol boat, and with shouting that carried over the water, the crew reached down with hooks and a long metal pry bar to break into it. The selkie moved away, his dark head coming in Oriana’s direction.

“Go after the yacht!” she yelled at him. “Follow it!”

He jerked about in the darkness and slipped under the water again.

She swam closer to the patrol boat. A bright flash of light momentarily blinded her. They must have found a photographer willing to bring his precious gear out on the water with them. She blinked to clear her eyes and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Where is the rowboat?”

In the chaos on the deck of the patrol boat, someone must have heard her. “Down,” a voice called back— Inspector Gaspar. He yelled something else. “. . . yacht hit it. Go after . . .”

Oriana’s heart slammed against her ribs. The yacht had hit the rowboat? Oh, gods, no!

None of the humans would be able to see in this water. They would never find him.

Another explosion of light came from the deck of the patrol boat. Oriana clamped her eyes closed, took a large breath, and submerged again. She swam down a dozen feet and then held her depth, her fingers spread wide to sense movement. Frantic tremors came from above where the patrol boat and the floating house banged against each other.

There was nothing on her own level save for the motion of the tide. No, there was something . . .

Below her she sensed a struggling movement, like that of a dolphin caught in a net. He was still alive! Oriana whirled in that direction and tracked the source of the movement.

She saw a flash of whiteness far below—his shirt. The current was pulling Duilio out to sea, while an anchor was dragging him lower each second. Could he hold his breath longer than a human?

She pushed herself downward until she reached him. His leg was caught in the anchor’s rope. Oriana wrapped her arms about him and pressed her lips to his, giving him the mouthful of air she held. It surely wouldn’t be enough. She had to get him loose.

She found the rope tangled about him, caught in the wool of his trousers. It must be crushing his leg, the weight of the anchor and undertow pitted against his will to survive. She patted his knee to reassure him and began to saw at the taut rope with her knife. After a moment only a thread was left, and then that thread snapped.

Unanchored, Duilio began to drift upward through the dark water. With a thankful prayer to whichever god was helping her, Oriana swam up after him, wrapped her arms about his body, and kicked hard.

When they broke the surface, he gave a ragged gasp. He choked and coughed while she supported him. “Be still,” she said, tears stinging her eyes now that he was safe. “Let the water hold you.”

There was panic in his eyes, visible this close. “Where are we?”

He couldn’t see the nearby shore, she realized, and had no innate sense of the direction. Following the lights of the city would mean swimming across the river, more than a mile against the current, a foolish choice when the unlit Gaia shore was closer. They’d drifted far from the patrol boat, certainly far beyond the crew’s ability to see two people stranded in the water. She could hear its engine chugging away. They must be heading back toward the city to get the victims to a doctor. At least she hoped that was the case. They had trusted